Barty Crouch Junior’s Christmas Wish
by amor-remanet
Summary: Severus Snape hates Christmas, especially when it drives the last sane person in Hogwarts mad. SeverusxBarty SLASH, with mentions of SiriusxRemus, LuciusxNarcissa, BellatrixxRodolphus, and the Black SistersxMom Zabini. Feedback welcome.


**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is JK Rowling's; I just like playing with it.

Hogwarts fifth-year Severus Snape was not naturally a happy person, a fact that the holiday season only exacerbated. What, with all the ridiculously extravagant ice sculptures messing up the entrance hallway, and suits of armor accosting any passersby with badly sung carols…it was enough to drive any reasonable person mad!

As he was slowly coming to realize, most Hogwarts students were not reasonable people. Everywhere he turned, he surrounded and bombarded by Christmas cheer in one of its many disgusting forms. He had come to expect it from students, but the teachers were getting into it too – even Peeves was celebrating the season in his own, detestable way! Increasingly, studies were more shirked than usual for frivolous activities, like snogging and pranks. Just the other day, he had walked in on a library "study session" between Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black while looking for a book to reference in his Charms essay.

He'd followed that up by stumbling across Sirius Black and Remus Lupin in a compromising position in the potions store cupboard.

And as if _that_ travesty hadn't been enough, he had _then_ found himself the victim of a holiday _Levicorpus_ and a bag of Dungbombs, delivered by none other than James Potter and Peter Pettigrew.

Couldn't anyone make it through a single day without acting like a complete and total idiot anymore? Was everyone but him _honestly_ thinking more about sex than school? Had someone, perhaps, put a curse on the entire building and everyone in it, reducing all the students – save himself, of course – to merely libidos with legs? Any day now, he was going to wander into the dungeons, hoping to see Professor Slughorn, and, instead, finding Professor Dumbledore snogging Professor McGonagall…quite possibly while Slughorn watched.

He didn't like the thought, but every day made it look incredibly more likely.

At least there was _one_ other student who did not appear to have suffered these effects, a fourth-year from Severus' own Slytherin house: Bartemius Crouch Junior.

When, the Slytherin Common Room devolved into nightly snog festivals and hordes of gossiping girls, the two of them were left to each other's company, which, Severus soon found, was not as terrible as he'd thought. Certainly, Barty had his annoying moments, but he was easily preferable to the mess known as "Everyone Else."

One night, just before the holiday break was actually set to start, a fight had developed in the Common Room over which Black sister was prettier – and with the last two of them together in Slytherin, it slowly grew to epic proportions.

Well…that was an exaggeration. Rather, an argument had sprung up between the two remaining Black sisters, Narcissa and Bellatrix; naturally, their respective boyfriends (Lucius Malfoy and Rodolphus Lestrange, each with his fair share of supporters). Andromeda was lucky to have graduated, though Severus did miss her. She was a Slytherin through and through, of course, but she'd always been so nice to him in the two years he'd known her.

Offhandedly, Malfoy's sycophant, Crabbe, had made some comment – hopefully in jest – about how the Black _brothers_ were clearly prettier than their cousins. As if the speculation this caused hadn't been enough, it had prompted that damned third-year, Regulus Black, to spend five whole minutes strutting around the Common Room. That, in turn, prompted cat-calls from Crabbe and the third-year girls. Finally, Malfoy had taken some prefect's initiative and backhanded the little bugger, which had made Severus quite pleased.

After that, though, the contest devolved into which Black sister looked better while snogging the Zabini girl, and Severus quit paying attention. Judging by the noise the spectators made, it was too hard to pick just one, and, without Professor Slughorn there to put a stop to this nonsense, it just kept going on.

Actually…Professor Slughorn would have probably made the whole situation worse.

Through all this, Severus sat over to the side, in a nice, cozy arm chair, perfectly immersed in a copy of _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Five_. Once he'd returned from the library, Barty had been similarly immersed in his copy of _Unfogging the Future_ and some star charts he was working on. The thought of divination made Severus shudder – ruddy, useless subject. It was all too unpredictable, too subjective, too open to interpretation, and, worst of all: too dependent on the opinion of someone who was probably a _fake_. Barty could keep it; Severus would stick with potion-making.

As the evening progressed, the noise just grew louder, and the likelihood of a decision being reached grew smaller. Still, Severus had managed to ignore the outside world. Finally, something managed to distract him from his quiet reading time. At first he just thought that he'd heard a wind in the dungeons – it would have been nothing _new_ – but when it felt warm and didn't stop, he had to look up. Glaring away from his book, he saw that it was Barty, who was dangerously close to his face.

"What are you doing?" Severus hissed.

"Watching you read, Sev," Barty said simply, as though other Slytherins did this on a regular basis.

"My name is Severus, Barty – not Sev."

"Sorry…I just thought-"

"Well, you thought wrong." Severus snapped. "And, by the way, I just think that you should go and annoy someone else."

Barty sighed wistfully and sunk back into his own chair, leaving Severus to his nice, peaceful reading. The silence lasted only a few moments, though, and was broken when Barty once again leaned over his armrest.

"D'you know what we did in Divination today?" he whispered cheerfully.

"I don't _care_, Barty," Severus sighed. "And I honestly can't fathom why you waste your time with that garbage."

"It's not garbage!" Barty protested, sounding terribly offended. "I mean, my father certainly thinks so, but the evidence in its favor is undeniable!"

"Okay. Give me some."

"A Seer accurately foretold how, where, and when Dumbledore would defeat Grindewald!"

"Anyone with any reason at all could have assessed the situation and said the same thing."

"But could they have gone into as much detail?"

"What detail?"

"Like, well…could they have said that Dumbledore wouldn't use the Killing Curse?"

"Of course they could have. Everyone knows that Dumbledore's upstanding and honorable, and that he'd never use the Unforgivable Curses, even to save himself."

"What if they didn't know about Dumbledore?"

"Barty, _everyone_ knows about Dumbledore. You can ask a seven-year-old from Outer Mongolia who Dumbledore is, and he'd answer you correctly."

"But do they know _that_ about him exactly?"

"He's famous for it."

"But…but…come on!"

"You're not going to leave me alone until you tell me, are you?"

"Nope."

"_Fine_…what did you do in Divination today?"

"Well, we're doing horoscopes, right," Barty explained excitedly. "And we did a quick on as an in-class assignment. And guess what _mine_ said?"

"Beware of heavy objects as they might fall on your head?"

"Well…no."

"Then what?"

"A new love will arise where no one would expect." Barty articulated clearly and grinned mock-seductively.

What. The. Hell.

Was Bartemius Crouch Junior – son of the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Pureblood, only child, and wealthy beyond the dreams of mere mortals – coming on to _him_? No, no…that was silly. Barty was probably just bragging about how he was going to get a girlfriend over the holidays. After all, _he_ was Bartemius Crouch Junior; he wouldn't waste his time coming on to Severus Snape – bookish outcast, Halfblood son of a Muggle and Eileen Prince, constant target of abuse from anyone who cared to notice him, and general anti-socialite. He had better people to do. While certainly not as popular as Lucius or the Brothers Black, he could still use status, wealth, and sense of humor to snag himself any of the girls in Hogwarts – even a Gryffindor could overcome their Houses' blood feud for him, if he tried hard enough.

And yet…he was moving closer to Severus, shoving his head over the armrest into the fifth year's personal space bubble. It was times like _this_ that made him desperate to get into NEWT level charms so he could learn protection charms. The ability to create a two-foot sphere around himself, which no other could enter – _that_ would be most excellent. In the meantime, though, he found himself to be quite vulnerable. Even though he should have learned better beforehand, Barty brought himself dangerously close to Severus. And then, quite inexplicably, Severus could have sworn that he heard a jingle.

Was he going crazy, or was Barty trying to pull something? In _just_ their first year, Potter, Pettigrew, Lupin, and Black the Elder had inflicted enough pranks and practical jokes to last Severus his entire life; that they hadn't stopped just made it worse. Naturally, his suffering hadn't stopped them – it had _encouraged_ them, actually – and now it seemed that even the members of his own House wanted to make a spectacle of him.

He sighed and stared at Barty, who merely stared at him expectantly, with one arm raised. The jingle sounded again.

"Tell me you heard that," Severus huffed.

"Heard what?" Barty asked, seeming far too innocent to be believed and there was that accursed jingle. "Heard _that_?"

"_Yes_. _That_."

"Look up."

"What the _Hell_ kind of answer is _that_?" Severus spat.

"Just look up, Severus."

Severus sighed. This whole stupid mess was going to prove to be completely pointless. Once again, he would be the fool and he would spend Christmas in the company of his right hand, since his parents had proved to be unsatisfactory company for the holidays for four years. Barty tilted his head and gave Severus a pitiable, long-faced look, eliciting a groan. Since he saw no alternative solution, he tilted his head back and looked up. He was met with the sight of a bough of mistletoe dangling above him like an acrobat. Without a second thought, he snatched the accursed plant away from Barty. As could be expected, Barty looked hurt…a little too hurt for Severus' taste. He hadn't been stabbed or been forced to watch someone use _Avada Kedavra_ on his favorite pet; looking so mortally wounded was just uncalled for.

"_No_, Barty," Severus snapped acidly. "Just…_no_."

"Come _on_, Severus," Barty pled. "No one's watching."

"_No_. I don't like you like that."

"That's okay. I can just use you for sex."

"The thought is laughable."

"But _why_?"

"For one thing," Severus explained – wow…he actually felt his spirits lifting from this. "You're a bit of a ponce."

"I am _not_!"

"Who meticulously arranges his Chocolate Frog cards?"

"I do," Barty sighed.

"Who cries _every_ time that Lucius tells his fictitious story of how he's single-handedly killed a Hippogriff?"

"_I _do."

"Who has defended the 'cuteness' of the travesty that is the Black-Lupin relationship since its inception?"

"_I have_."

"You _see_? You're a complete ponce, Barty."

"Fine then; I'm a ponce. It doesn't _mean_ anything."

"Quite the opposite, actually; it means everything."

"But _why_?"

"There's no way you could ever use someone for sex; you're too nice."

"Can I at least get a Christmas present?"

"Your family's _rich_, Barty. I'm sure you'll get more than you could ever want."

"But I don't _want_ those things," Barty moaned. "They're so superficial."

"We can trade places anytime you like, you know," Severus huffed. "I'll make up a Polyjuice Potion for Easter, and I'll go live in comfort with your father, mother, and House Elves, and you can go live with Eileen Prince, the queen bitch of Purebloods, and Tobias Snape, the amazing drunken Muggle."

"It's not as nice as you'd think, Severus. I mean, sure, it looks alright if you don't have to live there, but…I want something _more_ than all of that."

"And what is _that_, Barty?"

In retrospect, Severus would chide himself for not getting out of the way when he'd had a perfectly good chunk of time to do so. He'd think of how he should have guessed what was coming from Barty's behavior, but still did nothing to stop it or to save himself. The one comforting thought was that, by this point, Bellatrix had taken off her shirt and was undoing Zabini's, so no one else could see it, and they wouldn't have cared if they had. Slowly, and with the awkwardness of trying to remember a rehearsed performance, Barty shoved himself further into Severus' personal space and delicately pressed his lips against the older boy's cheek.

He only held them there for a few seconds, but it felt like longer. Severus felt his spine stiffen as a shudder ran down it. Was this what all those crazy kids were talking about when they made fun of him for being dismissive of snogging? The sensation of lips against his skin made his eyes wide and forced a foreign emotion to rise like fire in his chest. Even when Barty pulled away, the place where he'd kissed Severus still tingled with an unfamiliar feeling, a heightened awareness of the senses in his face.

He turned cautiously and looked at Barty, who looked up at him as though expecting to be reprimanded. Instead, he got the stir of a long finger moving up his throat and a reciprocating kiss, this time on the lips. This was also short, but felt longer than the other, for both involved parties. As Severus pulled back, he felt another new emotion: Barty smiled, childlike and appeased, and, for some reason he couldn't fathom, this smile brought a half-grin to Severus' own face.

"Merry Christmas, Barty," he chuckled.

Together, they fell back into their chairs and looked on at the slowly devolving morality of the Slytherin Common Room. Not that there had been that much there before hand, but this was the sort of thing that could only happen around Christmas. Innocuously, Barty slid a hand over to Severus' armrest, and Severus willingly took it, while Bellatrix pulled an unsuspecting fourth-year girl into the mess as well.


End file.
